My Sisters Never Knew (rev)

There was a sibling who might have
preceded me into the World; I say ‘he’
as I had three sisters waiting in the wings
with growing impatience for a male
applicant to bind with fledgling love;
‘he’ as it is unthinkable our mother
may have conceived another girl.

I was told of the sad miscarriage when
I observed disparity in dates we celebrated
birthdays. The gap between my next sister
and I was our brother stillborn. It was a slow-
growing shock – I still mourn for my brother,
I still mourn for an ally and friend whom I
never knew, assured he would agree.

There was a sibling who’d have preceded
me and made the World a less perilous
place, a brother who’d have loved and
protected me but never was. And when I
dreamed of him, staunch and beautiful with
features hewn from the same living flesh,
he was me and my sisters never knew.
© 30 September 2006, I.D. Carswell